Christmas Cookie Murder #6 by Leslie Meier Page A

fumed Steffie. “As it happens, I’m in a very important meeting, and I can’t leave right now. I’m sure Will’s in good hands at the cottage hospital.”
    â€œDo you want me to try your husband?” asked Lucy, somewhat stunned. She couldn’t imagine reacting as Steffie had, but then, she hadn’t tried to juggle a demanding career with motherhood.
    â€œNever mind,” snapped Steffie. “I’ll get there as soon as I can, but I’m at least ten miles away.”
    Well, thought Lucy, replacing the receiver, at least Will is with Sue and she won’t leave until his mother shows up.
    Realizing it might be a while before Sue returned, Lucy went around the room, chatting with each of the children. She suspected they might be concerned about Sue’s sudden departure, and she wanted to introduce herself and let them know that she would be taking care of them. Then she spotted a tray with a pitcher and a plate of cookies, and realized it was well past snack time.
    As soon as she placed the tray on the table, the children came running and jostled for seats.
    â€œWow, you guys must be hungry,” said Lucy, pouring cups of apple juice for them. “There’s plenty for everyone.”
    She sat down with them and played a name game. The first child said his name, Justin, and the second child had to say Justin’s name and add hers, Hillary. The third child, Emily, had to say the other names in order: Justin, Hillary, Emily.
    Lucy was last, and she pretended to have a terrible time remembering all the names. The kids thought she was hilarious, and had a rollicking good time laughing at a stupid grown-up. Finally, when everyone had finished their snack, she recited the names in proper order and sent the kids over to the cubbies to put on their jackets so they could all go out for some fresh air. While they did that, she cleared up the snack things and gave the table a quick wipe.
    By the time she joined them, the kids had done a pretty good job with their coats. She knelt down and helped them with zippers and buttons, and made sure they had their mittens on. Then she slipped into her own coat and led the little line over to the door. She was just about to open it, when Officer Barney Culpepper’s face appeared in the glass window.
    â€œHi, Officer Culpepper,” she said, opening the door. “What can we do for you today?” She assumed he was there for one of the many safety programs he presented at local schools—maybe bike safety, or stranger danger. So did the kids, who clustered around him, demanding to see his walkie-talkie. But today Officer Culpepper wasn’t smiling, his St. Bernard jowls were drooping and he looked very grim.
    â€œGo on outside, children. It’s playtime,” said Lucy. “Officer Culpepper will be back another day.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” asked Lucy, fearing that his wife, Marge, had taken a turn for the worse.
    â€œWhere’s Sue?” Barney looked through the doorway. “I need to talk to her.”
    â€œAt the hospital. Will Scott had an asthma attack. Can I help you?”
    â€œMaybe.” Barney took off his blue cap and scratched his brush cut. “I probably shouldn’t tell you but, heck, it’s gonna be all over town soon enough, anyway.” He held the cap in his hands and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Finally, he spoke. “Tucker Whitney was killed this morning. A neighbor noticed her front door was open and called 911. The responding officer found her dead, inside the house.”
    Lucy collapsed against the doorframe, feeling as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “I can’t believe it. I just saw her last night.”
    â€œIt’s terrible.” Barney shook his head.
    Lucy’s mind was in a whirl, trying to understand how a healthy young girl like Tucker could be dead. “Was it an